Long Adulterated Poems
Long Adulterated Poems. Below are the most popular long Adulterated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Adulterated poems by poem length and keyword.
Wriggled in her arms.
Lost in an adventure of romance, moving far afield.
Though I have no weakness for writing,
my story got underway.
Wallowing in the admiralty of her beauty
Adorned with beautiful antique ornament
Adulterated with the laudable attribute of nature
Epitomizing the 6th day work,
and the adroit molding of the creator.
Ensconced on her chest for an aeon of time.
Only my hands left to keep the memory of time.
Touching the acme of her chest,
Pointing like that of Sheba.
Turning it to a piccolo, without an acoustic.
Acknowledging the season between her legs,
warming the cold in my hands.
Letting my hand becoming an ace,
and my phalanges adept in describing her.
My eyes falling over itself
to keep the facsimile of her body,
and my skin falling in with my eyes,
as two spent swimmers that do cling together.
Feeling her permed hair,
blowing like a frond tree by the river.
Her eyes shining like a cat
which has never been afeared
Her skin like flowers that never fade in autumn
and less of acne in winter.
I wish our spirit is adjoined forever
Like fifes and drum that make a good sound,
Keeping myself in the light of your love
praying it never fade.
I wish I wake up in my trance
Wishing I say all these to your face
And see it received.
Declarative mantras in tenacious pulchritude
reiterate the unbound verisimilitude.
The cohorts cannot comprehend the vicissitude.
Learning and judgments are encumbered in lassitude.
My thoughts are accomplished extemporaneously,
although they are all confronted adversatively.
Examples of life’s essences contrary to me,
adulterated by each potent adversary,
appear contiguous with each stark antonymy.
I seek honest truth from an external faculty.
I search for a scrupulous freelance authority.
Though time is quick, I seek this elusive entity.
I beseech your unencumbered intact allotment.
This installment will help elucidate my judgment.
Will supplies be exhausted in a fleeting moment?
Be munificent in this required fulfillment.
penchants for doing things the right way
unhinge the knighted sky shot full with holes
twinkle twinkle little star, you burn so very
bright, where have you all gone? home you say,
dancing the edges of madness’ thin veils
containment slotted through the IS’s of
consecutive sequenced selfs, unawakened
self-righteous indignation, plagiarize the
potential for adulterated emotions
conspicuous lapse of good judgment
right the scales of too much this or that,
the arms of balance form both positive
and always behind the seen, negative imagery
this land whirls the positive insisting it’s
our only reality of expression, negative quivers
with pretence experienced as a landscape
of oblivion ensued from forgetfulness...always is
a this and a that, a hat and a cat, a louse and a mouse.
Always is...
Ding-ding-beat,
beating drums, humming,
humming a useless song.
Listen and repeat.
Hoping for epiphanies
while we watch the sun cast glitter
upon Autumn leaves.
Maybe the truth
resides within a song,
or a voice,
a bed made up
or a room made neat,
or the groove
between our toes,
where the sand beneath our feet
collects to make its way to the street,
from the ocean that represents
freedom; how come?
Is it really so grand
that we itch to fight for it?
Ah that itch! Damn
the restlessness!
But here we are going deep
into norms, zombies
chasing green lights
and leaving cookies for Santa.
A dream world where ghosts could be
whatever we haven't yet thought.
We don’t understand what we need,
how our choices, guided
by an urge to breed
are mostly made without us...
We're the aliens,
puppets suspended into space.
Merry, merry,
merry Christmas. I believe
in drug-induced euphoria, I've seen
the god that wasn't. A smell
so familiar. The essence
of things ever filtered,
adulterated by senses
meant just to survive.
We wash ourselves in a fountain
of beautiful reasons to be,
bubbling up from nowhere
in our jungle beneath the stars.
Happy New Year,
wild Summer,
sweet dreams.
The pain never goes away even with unspoken words…
For
All I had was my pen and paper hoping….that someone would eventually see the real me; not that of make believe… but one of a beautiful spirit and not that of a flock of wounded birds.
So here we are…
Beaten up with invisible and hidden scars…
Hiding behind a brick wall with a couple of bars…
Crying and screaming in the middle of the night; wishing that this very night; would blast me through the dark blue skies with clouds and stars.
Dear God! I can no longer feel my heart beat…
No more breath circulating through this form of body formally past on with the slaying of…“A piece of meat”.
Hating the thought of what tomorrow may bring…
When all I see from day to day is all of the greed; Feeding life into material things; and not that of morals and the mutual understanding of human emotion and needs; only the consent of ill wills and adulterated flings.
So why try to rewrite the wrongs when so many has changed the direction of the perfect light?
Because my light,
My views and insight are different from those who have fallen off the radar and off sight.
For
My lane is my lane and I still have a chance at love, happiness, and a spiritual connection with God’s help that will turn the direction of my pain.
So,
Will anyone take the time to see the real me before it’s too late?
I don’t know because I was never given the chance known as the clean slate…and as night begins to fall each night… will one of those days be my one and only true night; when chosen… “SILENT NIGHT”
THE END…
I'm a witness,...you're an audience,
Yes,...Christ and the church,
Abide to list of ineptness,
Meet a criteria of creche,
A lioness gifted with new furs from gold,
Love in their abode,
Attractive and benevolent flower in the botany of a gardener,
It is purchased for a purpose;
providing rich scents,prestige and endeavors,
Beak of falcons wish to feed upon,
Doves and sparrows like it's leaves,
But they work in vain,
News about you and I is heard in the East,
Those from west come to view the feast,
From North comes Kings and Queens,
"Very adulterated with endearment",
That's the voice of the southern prominent, .
Three things attributed by love;hardworking,dedication and focus,
The head of one man carries the goals of perversion,
Joy and peace;they are the son and daughter of couples,
"Open your heart,...I.want to hide myself in there",
The man said,
Incredibly the voice of the woman toned,
"come in to your breeding home",
Oceans we take sight,...greener pastures we stroll along,
How can I taste your sweetness?
When will I have you as a fuel in my lamp?
I guess writing your feelings in my heart,
Matrimonial seal our consolidation with angelic visitation,
Heaven then hails our glory with hope and laughter,
Day and night concludes our sojourn on the surface of greatness,
That's when death workouts its part with loneliness and weariness,
Feeding the belly of graves with our rotten vessel,
Walking on the moonlit path of the strand,
My footsteps found their way upon the sand
While contemplating the note you left for me
I heard the sea calling, "Come to me.
Come to me."
Tempting notion, the moon frowned from high
Waves washed over my feet, should I live or die?
Moon hid somber eyes behind a thick black cloud.
It donned a shadowed cloak, a mourning shroud.
What is left when the zest has been grated?
Sour remnants of memories, those now hated.
Bitter pith which no one would want to taste.
Decayed and adulterated love, gone to waste.
Forthcoming was my fate; a decision to befall.
Waves crashed in summoning call, "Come to me.
Come to me."
(alternately titled:
why yours truly crafted six electronic aliases).
No rhyme nor reason beatle browed
beastie boy long ago
created INXS of half dozen
email addresses gallivanting
feigning himself a most sought after
singular modest beau
courtesy crass brazen duplicity
eventually forced to eat crow
campy bonehead devoured carrion
(blech) property extinct dodo.
Egregious discreet escapades
sneeze silly explains at chew
(albeit lamely) philandering,
foolish extramarital dalliances,
I now regret and genuinely eschew
interesting complete one hundred eighty
sobering perspective regarding grandview
emotional shell shocked fallout experienced
courtesy this wanderlust myopic
quite reformed practicing Jew
whose doubting thomas belief, credo, dogma...
closely aligned with Unitarianism milieu
dirty deeds done dirt cheap willingly crafted
previous poems offering adulterated preview
years after, the missus
got told deux gals I did hammer, nail and screw
at present juncture within space time continuum,
yours truly maintains critical view
bespeaking polygamous antics,
now reviled when garden variety
generic primate initially acted cagey
while going bananas within human zoo.
I sought amorous affections
(think verboten fruit) cuz marriage went askew
(daily altercations transpired
between me and the missus),
thus as iterated above
unhappy husband stealthily finagled bravado
(dreamt up one after another digital pseudonyms
blithely cavorting debauchery ejaculating
unsuspecting self incrimination) cyber sex debut
successfully launched prurient hitherto
novel short lived role as Casanova
starring me... Matthew
Scott Harris whose hubris
coursed thru mine every sinew
until... worst fate than being caught
by cannibalistic Zulu.
Behind a Round Table:
This is ANDERSON WALKINGSHOES...
VERSE 1:
I'm a witness,...you're an audience,
Yes,...Christ and the church,
Abide to list of ineptness,
Meet a criteria of creche,
A lioness gifted with new furs from gold,
Love in their abode,
Chorus:
"come in to your breeding home",
Oceans we take sight,...greener pastures we stroll along,
How can I taste your sweetness?
When will I have you as a fuel in my lamp?
I guess writing your feelings in my heart,
Chorus:
"come in to your breeding home",
Oceans we take sight,...greener pastures we stroll along,
How can I taste your sweetness?
When will I have you as a fuel in my lamp?
I guess writing your feelings in my heart,
VERSE 2:
Attractive and benevolent flower in the botany of a gardener,
It is purchased for a purpose;
providing rich scents,prestige and endeavors,
Beak of falcons wish to feed upon,
Doves and sparrows like it's leaves,
But they work in vain,
News about you and I is heard in the East,
Those from west come to view the feast,
From North comes Kings and Queens,
"Very adulterated with endearment",
That's the voice of the southern prominent, .
Three things attributed by love;hardworking,dedication and focus,
The head of one man carries the goals of perversion,
Joy and peace;they are the son and daughter of couples,
"Open your heart,...I.want to hide myself in there",
The man said,
Incredibly the voice of the woman toned,
Chorus:
"come in to your breeding home",
Oceans we take sight,...greener pastures we stroll along,
How can I taste your sweetness?
When will I have you as a fuel in my lamp?
I guess writing your feelings in my heart,
Chorus:
"come in to your breeding home",
Oceans we take sight,...greener pastures we stroll along,
How can I taste your sweetness?
When will I have you as a fuel in my lamp?
I guess writing your feelings in my heart,
Outro:
This is ANDERSON WALKINGSHOES....
Matrimonial seal our consolidation with angelic visitation,
Heaven then hails our glory with hope and laughter,
Day and night concludes our sojourn on the surface of greatness,
That's when death workouts its part with loneliness and weariness,
Feeding the belly of graves with our rotten vessel,
Attorney General William
Barr black marker in hand
kept promise to censor vital
details of Mueller Report
swift as Usain Bolt candidly,
grandly, lustrously, roundly
youthfully blocked out more
rapid than an elegant eland
vibrantly, regally, magically,
and gracefully skirts borderland
which favored topography
constitutes grassland or woodland,
far more pleasing to observe,
than reading adulterated brand
of aforementioned compilation,
distillation, edification, fortification
zeroing questionable activity
upon head of trumpeting brigand,
whose arrivistic, bombastic, caustic,
demonic, electric broadband
outsize ego still convinces
me, thee commander in chief
delegated one or more chargehand
perhaps while delighting as
gourmand savoring chateaubriand,
where his best buddies imagined
themselves in seventh heaven cloudland
every so often taking siesta sans repast
or golfing with grisly handicapped clubhand
non verbally communicating,
in viz sub bully taking a peas zing
cues from presidential high command,
which coterie (i.e. den of thieves)
manipulated social media with nefarious,
insidious, deleterious, et cetera
analogous to "FAKE" contraband,
maybe even milking innocent cowhand
unwittingly planting GMO electronic
bugs amidst future bovine fodder cropland
to allow, enable, and jackknife demand
that moost every eligible voter tricked
induced by virtual reality dreamland
with sinister motive for thee "Apprentice"
rule his kingdom, and expand,
realm asper Medieval days
declaring himself chieftain of fatherland
and/ or North American motherland
where naysayers guillotined
by uncontested firebrand,
who without provocation
very likely bomb into Stone Age
formerly edenic, lush, verdant
geography into flatland
rendered hostile, poisonous and uninhabitable
nonetheless radiating for miles with gangland
forced labor tilling barren, desolate, fissured
landscape erecting unsightly grand
standing room only (cause he know Shylock)
terrain (reign) vast highland
manor as poobah, and husband
to his only heiress, the former
a kooky monster from foggy bottom marshland.